


Iron Skins And Tender Hearts

by dixiehellcat



Series: Tony Stark Bingo 2020 [2]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Bonding over Technology, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Crossover, Din Djarin Is A Good Dad, F/M, Gen, Parent-Child Relationship, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), The Child - Freeform, Tony Stark Lives, Tony Stark is a Good Dad, idk them, the Russos whomst, the magic hand thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22431490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dixiehellcat/pseuds/dixiehellcat
Summary: Two fathers from two different universes find they have a lot in common.Fill for Tony Stark Bingo, prompt S1 'Crossover', card 3028, spring 2020
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Series: Tony Stark Bingo 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1765129
Comments: 38
Kudos: 275
Collections: Tony Stark Bingo 2020





	Iron Skins And Tender Hearts

The _Razor Crest_ was in deep shab. Din Djarin’s head rattled inside his helmet like a dilga-nut in its shell. Beside him, his _ika’ad_ whimpered, strapped into the booster seat Din had cobbled together to fit in the co-pilot’s chair. The Mandalorian wanted to take his hands off the controls and soothe the foundling; the frightened little noises tore at his heart, but he gritted his teeth and fought the plasma storm.

A burst of wild energy engulfed the ship and blinded Din even through the light filter of his visor. When the spots in front of his eyes cleared, the readouts on the control panel showed they were approaching atmosphere, although he had been nowhere near any planet. _Haar'chak_ , he thought, _we’ve bounced through some kriffing portal, Hod Ha’ran only knows where we are now_. They careened through a blue sky, a single yellow sun shining above a green surface. Those trees were going to make for one rough landing. He had walked (or limped) away from worse, but the child could not endure such. Just before he admitted to panic, he spied the glint of light off water ahead and below. A water landing was no pilot’s choice, but it was definitely preferable to a hard crash, so he steered his sputtering craft that way, downshifted, and managed to put the _Razor Crest_ down with a mighty splash. 

The child clapped his tiny green hands and squealed, as though his adoptive father had orchestrated the entire experience for his entertainment. “Easy for you to say,” Din muttered fondly. He scrutinized the panel to see if he had enough fuel to putter to the shore of what he now saw was a small lake (he did), then lifted his gaze to scan the shoreline itself. The only sign of habitation was a neat house of stone and wood with a couple of outbuildings nearby. A herdbeast of some unfamiliar kind (and how was that even the case—his HUD couldn’t even identify it?) munched vegetation placidly, unperturbed by the landing. Having no idea where they were, other than apparently the shebs of the galaxy, the bounty hunter held a mental debate over whether to approach and ask help from the residents, or steer clear. The deliberation was rendered moot when he saw an armored figure appear near one outbuilding and lift off from the ground heading his way. He braced for confrontation, unholstering his sidearm and muttering “ _Kovid daab, ad’ika_.” Not that he really expected the little one to listen to him and keep its head down, but it was the principle of the thing.

Din looked enviously at the brilliantly colored armor drawing near, before he realized it was not using a jetpack. In fact, it appeared to be propelled by repulsorlift—he’d seen it in many applications, from the weapons on his own vambraces to short-hop flight, but he couldn’t recall ever seeing anything like this. He couldn’t use the side or back hatches, for fear of taking on water and sinking; he didn’t know where they were, how deep the lake was, or what manner of creatures might lurk therein. Both intrigued and wary, he popped the emergency hatch on the ship’s top and cautiously peered out. 

The last thing Tony Stark was expecting on a sunny spring morning was a spaceship ditching in his lake. He stepped out of his garage workshop and watched, thinking that had to be the shittiest landing he’d ever seen—either the pilot sucked or the ship was in some serious distress. His flesh hand went to his chest automatically, silently thankful he was wearing the nanite housing today. Peter and May were coming up to take Morgan for the afternoon so Pepper could take a test flight to shake down the new upgrades to her suit. Tony had (hopefully) gotten the current Iron Man tweaked to accept his prosthetic arm, and was planning a nice relaxed airborne saunter around the lake with her to test it out. 

_Yeah Stark, and when was the last time things went as planned for you?_ he snarked to himself as the suit encased his body and he went out to take a look. As he approached, a small hatch in the top opened, and shoulders and a helmeted head slowly emerged. It wasn’t any of the few spacefaring folks he knew, so he stopped, hovered, and hoped the mods held. The newcomer said something unintelligible in a male-sounding voice. Tony cocked his head. “Friend of the Guardians?” he asked. No response. “Carol Danvers?” The tilt of the head was almost funny in the way it mirrored his own. “So you aren’t getting me. You don’t have a translation chip thingie?”

Where did this character drop in from? A rifle-looking stock protruded above one shoulder, and one hand held a pistol of some type. Tony assumed the position, as Pep called it, ready to fire repulsors and disarm the other, should hostilities ensue. The brief standoff’s tension cracked when more movement became discernible in the craft’s cockpit. Tony started and lifted his other hand when the movement traveled upward. Near the pilot’s left elbow, a small green head peeked above the lip of the hatch, with enormous ears, huge dark eyes wide and a tiny mouth open in wonder as it gazed around. 

Keeping an eye on the one with the guns, Tony risked lowering one hand, and hovered closer to the wee one. “Look at you. Part frog, part bat, all cute, huh?” When he got near the stern of the craft, he scented hot metal and scorched electronics. His attention shifted further aft to a burnt mass of what used to be an engine—well, he assumed that was what he was looking at, though he’d never seen a flyer exactly like it.

“I see your problem back here,” he called as he drifted back to eyeball the seared components, then looked forward. The pilot was watching him intently, wariness plain in the line of stance. ”If you’d take the tin can off your head, buddy, at least I could rule out some of the spacefaring races I do know.” He gestured with his hands the motion of taking a helmet off. The other pulled back a bit, then shook their head. “Suit yourself,” Tony shrugged, “but it gets humid out here this time of year. Don’t blame me if you get boggy. Let’s tow this hot rod to shore, and I’ll lend you a hand to patch it up.”

Din could not understand a word spoken by this odd figure. They weren’t speaking any version of Basic, or any other language his commlink’s translation filter contained; but their tech was impressive, and he wondered again where the shab that portal had thrown them. He’d be fine, if things went sideways; he could easily cover himself, but as ever, he worried about his little one, who was now hanging over the edge of the top hatch waving to their rescuer. He grabbed the back of the tiny robe’s collar and held on before enthusiasm tipped the small body out altogether.

Tony extruded some nanites into tow cables and attached them to the nose of the ship under its keeper’s watchful eye. The craft wasn’t huge, so he pulled it up onto the bank near the garage without a lot of effort. It was a good road test for the modified circuits, which seemed to be working adequately with the prosthetic. He stayed suited up, though, while the side hatch opened. The larger figure emerged, in full armor, and turned to wave a hand, probably to shut it, but halted when their green companion followed. Wrapped in a doll-sized brown robe, it toddled down the short ramp as fast as its short legs would carry it. Tony couldn’t help but grin. “I feel ya, Short Round,” he muttered, thinking of all the times he’d had to keep up with gigantors like Rogers and Thor. The armored figure’s shoulders slumped slightly in a motion Tony knew all too well. “Kids, huh?” he said without thinking.

There may have been a language barrier, but the snort that came from inside the armor needed no translation. Encouraged, Tony risked retracting his helmet. “I’m just gonna go get some tools,” he said, pointing to the garage and making a pounding gesture with his fists. “Wait here, be right back. Gerald! Do not charge the visitors. Damn alpaca.”

Fortunately, Gerald seemed more interested in clearing the blackberry vines he and Rhodey had planted the previous year. Pepper was not going to be happy, but at least he had a good excuse this time for not intervening. Once in the garage, he hustled around and gathered a selection of particularly adaptable tools and some universal replacement parts. He sent the nanites back into their unit so he could stuff his pants pockets with fuses and plugs and valves, a sort of starter set until he could get under the housing of that fried engine and see exactly what totally new alien tech needed. There was no guarantee the well-armed pilot wasn’t a thief or intergalactic serial killer, but if so, they sure had a unique way of winning over their would-be victims with their teeny companion. Granted, it’d be easier if he could talk to them…Tony got an idea and reached for a project he’d been playing with for the past few weeks.

The Mandalorian gazed around at the placid setting and down at his _ad’ika_ happily playing in the dirt, not lulled into complacency, but feeling a trace more optimistic. The figure in the red and gold flight armor had not mounted a threat, and if Din was honest, the man’s voice while examining the blown engine had sounded downright excited. Bashing the _Razor Crest_ back into spaceworthy condition might be an easier time if the guy had built that suit himself. Din itched to get a look at it, or at least be able to ask some questions.

He wrenched his mind back to the here and now when a small figure raced out of the house and toward them. The little female screeched to a halt and waved. Din raised a hand in greeting. From the intonation, she greeted him and asked a question. “I’m sorry, _adiik_. I don’t speak your language.” She asked another question, then shrugged when he didn’t reply. Her gaze found the little one, and with a noise of delight she squatted before him and they began to play together in the almost instant way children had of bridging nearly every difference without effort.

Tony had paused to adjust a couple of micro-modulators on the gadgets he held before taking them out for the ultimate test run, but he almost dropped them when he heard a sound he had hoped not to hear right now. _Fuck fuck fuck_ —“Morgan!” he yelped and burst out the workshop door, his hand to his chest ready to go full-on Iron Man and damn all consequences to protect his baby girl. 

The space guy didn’t appear a threat, though; instead, he was crouched watching her plopped in the dirt playing some indecipherable kid-game with the little green guy. They had probably made up rules on the spot, if there were any, even not being able to communicate. “Hey, Daddy,” she greeted him casually. “They don’t understand me like Nebula and her friends do.”

“Seems not, Morgoona, but I might be able to fix that.” On an earlier visit, Nebula had brought Tony a couple of loose translator chips. He was not about to have anything else implanted in his body, no thank you very much sir/madam/otherwise specified, so he had monkeyed around with them and had some success with a casing similar to a behind-the-ear hearing aid. The miniscule pickup fed sound to the chip which deciphered the language and then presented the translation through bone conduction to the auditory nerve. He didn’t need to explain that to their unexpected guest, though; he just hooked one over his ear, wiggled the earpiece in, then handed the other over with more charades in an attempt to demonstrate its use.

Din took the small device, observed his host settling it in his ear and guessed its function. He still couldn’t puzzle out how he had gotten so far away from civilization that his HUD couldn’t translate the native tongue, but hopefully this gadget would serve, no longer than he planned to stay. He fiddled with it briefly, linking it to the integrated sound sensors and translation filter in his helmet. While he waited for the link to connect, he looked the other man over; out of the powerful flight suit, he was smaller and older than expected. The Mandalorian wondered why he had removed all the armor except the right arm, until his visor’s scanner helpfully informed him that the appendage was actually a substitutive prosthetic. That, and the fine scars on his right cheek, marked the man as not only the mechanic he seemed, but likely a seasoned warrior, and Din was silently thankful he did not seem inclined to be a foe.

 _“Greetings,”_ a disembodied female voice abruptly said in Galactic Basic. _“I have accessed your linguistic databases to allow you and my Boss to communicate.”_

“Who are you?”

_“My designation is FRIDAY. I’m an AI who assists Tony Stark.”_

The man, apparently Stark, was watching with a hint of a smirk, but Din noted how casually he had placed himself between the small girl and the Mandalorian. The body language of parents was universal, it seemed. “Good job, Fri,” Stark said. “Welcome to Earth, Lancelot.”

“I do not know this world, but I accept your greeting. I am Din Djarin, of the Mando’are.”

“Huh, that’s a new one. Not like I know every planet of rocket jockeys, obviously. Nice to meet you though. The, uh, lid doesn’t come off?”

He gestured again to the helmet and Din shook his head. “We only remove our helmets when with our closest kin. It is the way.”

Tony shrugged. “Cool, cool. Just couldn’t help wondering, if that’s your kid, and he obviously is from the way you act, how you get your ears up in there. No offense, but do you wrap ‘em around like a shemagh?”

The Mandalorian had to laugh. “He is a foundling. It is also our way, to adopt such, and raise them until they are of age and may choose their own path. I was a foundling myself, but I am of your kind, not his, whatever that is. I…never considered myself parental, but—it is surprising, how quickly such feelings can develop.”

“Ditto,” Tony chuckled, heading toward the blown-out engine with his guest following. “The thought of trying to be a dad terrified me, until I held her.” He nodded toward Morgan. “I didn’t have a grade-A upbringing myself, but I knew in that moment I’d do whatever it took for her.” He pushed away the memories that the words _whatever it takes_ roused.

“We have a saying,” Din said thoughtfully. “ _Gar taldin ni jaonyc; gar sa buir, ori-wadass’la._ Nobody cares who your parent was, only the parent you will be.” Tony just nodded. “Do you have a map of this sector? We ran into a plasma storm and it clearly flung us a long way from the Core Worlds. If I can determine where on the standard galactic grid you are, I can navigate back to the Outer Rim where my business is.

“No map, sorry. No cosmic AAA office around here yet. Humans are still fairly new to the marvels of space travel. I’ll have FRIDAY shoot you the coordinates I know, though, thanks to Captain Sparklefists, I mean Danvers.” 

With a chuckle and a wave of his metal hand, Stark continued to explore the charred engine housing, but the Mandalorian’s heads-up display suddenly displayed graphics of star systems and galaxies that left him shaken. “I—can identify none of these charts. I have traveled the galaxy most of my life but these angles are completely unfamiliar.”

Stark frowned and paused in his attempt to persuade an oddly-shaped bolt to dislodge. “How’d you end up here again?” he inquired, his lighthearted air yielding to a look of unparalleled intensity. Din explained the squall the _Razor Crest_ had encountered. The other man’s frown deepened even more, and he flexed the red and gold metal of his hand slowly, almost as though, impossibly, it pained him. “Did your world lose half its population a while back, and then get them back five years later?”

If Tony could have seen through the stranger’s helmet, he was pretty sure the guy would be looking at him like he had lost what was left of his mind. “No! Who ever heard of such a thing?”

“Me,” Tony said quietly, suppressing a shudder. “Us. This world. This universe. Zorro, I think you may have been yeeted right across the multiverse.” The silence with which his theory was received, broken only by the breeze and the happy giggles of Morgan and her new playmate now chasing bugs, said it all. “I’m not sure I can get something this size back where it came from, myself, but I know a wizard who might.” He sighed. “Damn, and here I’d led a happy life for weeks without having to deal with Strange’s swollen head.”

“That will not be needed. The Mando’are have never trusted wizards of any sort.” Din sat for a moment, processing the amazing data presented to him. Tony let him be, and alternately hummed and swore while he banged on the unfamiliar but fascinating components. “Plasma storms last for a good while. Hours, sometimes days. If I can get off the ground quickly enough, and the ship holds up, perhaps that door will swing both ways.”

“What are we waiting for then?” Tony demanded and slipped his glasses on, activating the AI program in them. “ERIS, start a scan and gimme schematics. Phantom, lend me a glove or two, and tell me what some of this scrap does, if you want to get yourself and your little house-elf back over the rainbow.” Most of that didn’t make sense to Din, but as they worked and he saw the near-magic that Stark worked with his hands, his eccentricities became irrelevant. 

They had paused for a breath when Morgan’s high clear voice rang across the yard, followed by the queen herself. “Daaadddeee! Can I take the baby to see Gerald?” 

Tony was briefly alarmed to see his daughter cradling the tiny alien, but its face seemed alight with enjoyment as it played with a piece of her hair that had slipped out of her ponytail. “You probably ought to ask his daddy, sweetheart,” he said casually with a nod toward Din.

“Mister! Can I take your baby to see Gerald? He’s an alpaca. He’s not mean at all.”

“Not to you,” Tony grunted under his breath. “He loves you and Pep. He spits at me.”

Din was quietly amused, and pretty sure that, given what his _ik’aad_ had been through without a blink, it would be fine. “Of course, _copikla_ ,” he said with a pat on the girl’s head. 

“No riding!!” Tony yelled as they scampered off. “She tried once,” he explained. “He sat down and let her slide off his butt.”

“Beasts have more wisdom than we credit them with, sometimes.”

It was a little surprising to Tony how easily he fell into a working rhythm with this masked stranger. Usually he only had to give one quick explanation of a tool before the man caught on. For his part, he was in his element as he had only rarely been since…well, for a good while. No reason to dwell on past shit when he had a lovely day, children safely at play, and a unique piece of gear to demolish and reassemble. He gave a quick Multiverse 101 overview as he worked, and his assistant listened and didn’t ask any of the questions that could send Tony into a quiet panic attack. It was frankly refreshing to spend time with somebody who didn't know or care that he had nearly gotten his ass killed saving this universe.

Before Din knew it, faster than he had imagined, the engine was refurbished and looked ready to test. Many of the parts were, obviously, not available on a world that had apparently never seen or even heard of Empire or Republic, but Stark had pieced together substitutes with eye-popping speed and accuracy. It should definitely hold long enough for them to try the plasma storm again and hopefully hit the anomaly that Stark called a portal, to take them back into their own universe.

Tony stood and popped his back, then shuffled around and shaded his eyes to peer toward the ‘barn’. Mercifully, Gerald was mount-less, and seemed to be behaving himself. Morgan was feeding him a handful of grass, while the green guy patted the alpaca’s fluffy ankles, that being about as high as he could reach. When her hands were empty, Morgan went around the alpaca’s side and started to hop up and down as if trying to mount up. Bat-Boy looked from her antics up to her target as if totally at a loss, and Tony couldn’t blame him. He started to yell for her to calm down if she wanted a juice pop later, when one teeny green hand lifted into the air—and a moment later, so did his daughter. Tony could feel the breeze off the lake literally blowing through his mouth where it was hanging open, as, light as a silk scarf, Morgan settled onto Gerald’s fuzzy back.

He should have been running to rescue her before she was bucked off and ended up with a concussion—did alpacas buck? Fuck if he even knew—but he was frozen in shock. To top that off, Dobby parted ways with the ground just then and floated up to land in front of her. Their peals of laughter carried all the way down to the bank where their fathers stood. The Mandalorian shook his head in amusement. “What is your word, Stark? _Kids_.”

“Kids,” Tony agreed, still a little dazed. “So, can you do that magic hand thing?”

“No. He saved me from a charging mudhorn in that way, though it drained him.” He pointed to a symbol on his armor’s shoulder that resembled a stylized rhino’s head. “Our clan name came from there. We are a clan of two, he and I, two orphans. It may be a magic peculiar to his kind, I do not know.”

“You’re looking for his kind.” Din nodded. “And if you find ‘em, what then?” The bounty hunter shrugged. “Take a piece of advice, which you probably already know, and I’m the last one to play Dr. Spock, but…enjoy him as much as you can. Squeeze every damn minute out of the time you have, because the worm can turn in a day.” 

Stark’s gaze was fixed on the laughing children and the patient beast, and his metal arm seemed to tremble a bit. Whatever had taken that limb, Din guessed, had almost taken this man’s life, taken him from his child forever: a hard-won lesson he wanted to pass along as best he could. “The Mando’are know this as well. We call it _shereshoy_ : to relish each new day, to seek out and take hold of every possible experience, to survive to see the next day. I think we aren’t that different, you and I. Under our iron skins, we both have soft hearts.” Tony let out a sharp little laugh. “We should get them down from there, I suppose,” Din went on, “before they fall off. _Ik’aad! Atin, sheb’ika daab!”_

They each grabbed their respective responsibility and put them safely back on terra firma, thank fuck, just before Pepper stepped out on the porch. “Morgan! Tony! Lunch is ready—oh. I didn’t know we had company.”

“Playing roadside mechanic,” Tony said quickly. “They ran into a space storm and needed help getting back in the air.” No sense going into the whole song and dance right now, he figured, and his guest didn’t offer more either, so Tony figured he’d made the right call. “We’re just about to fire her up, and if everything holds they’ll be on their way.”

“Ohh-kay,” Pepper nodded and gave Din a smile. “Can you stay for lunch? Or at least let me pack you something? Spaceship rations aren’t all that great, from what I hear from friends.”

The bounty hunter inclined his head. “I would be honored to accept the hospitality of some fresh food to take with us. _Vor’entye_. Thank you.” 

While Stark’s _riddur_ prepared provisions, Din strode to the _Razor Crest_ , leaving the child clasping hands with the human girl and Stark watching over them both. It took a little coaxing, but the subspace engines finally caught, and from the readouts, he was fairly sure the hyperdrive core was intact and functional. With a sigh of relief, he hunted through his stash of trade goods for a few small items he wanted, then alighted to the planet’s surface again.

Pepper had packed half their kitchen, Tony grumbled; the bag was bigger than little Hermie. He knew that for a fact, because when she brought it out and spotted the tiny rascal, he had gotten stuck holding the bag, literally, while she scooped him up and cooed over him. He giggled and kicked his miniscule feet when she decided he needed cleaning up—“really, Tony, his father isn’t going to want him tracking half of Earth back into their ship!”

 _“Kandosii_ ,” Din said when he returned. “Very good. You are a wizard in your own way, Stark. My currency is of no value here, obviously, so accept this in payment for your honest work.” He took the food from Tony and in return handed him a small block of metal, about the size of a StarkPhone, with a weight that belied its size, and wavy lines reminiscent of Damascus steel’s folds. A snowflake-shaped icon was stamped in one corner. “Beskar,” he explained. “Only the Mando’are use it, and the last mines were lost when our world was. It can withstand blaster fire and the strongest strokes of a space wizard’s light-sword. In my universe, only we are capable of forging it; but despite your planet’s backwater level of advancement, I believe your skill might be up to the challenge.”

Tony turned it over in his grasp, a faint clink sounding as he shifted it from flesh hand to metal. “I probably should be offended, but yeah, Earth has been kind of considered the galactic trailer park. We’re more than we seem, though. Thanos found that out the hard way.” His voice dropped and he seemed far away for a moment, before he brightened and examined his payment more closely. “Can’t wait to see how this compares to vibranium. I’ll beg the big cat for a sample to run comparisons on. Hey, since I know the suit’s ready to rumble, maybe I’ll text Wakanda and take a run across—”

“Tony,” Pepper said warningly. “You aren’t taking a run anywhere, or even thinking about it, until we see our guests off and you and our daughter eat your lunch.”

“I wish you could stay!” Morgan whined. “Can I go for a ride in your spaceship? Daddy and mommy let me go riding with my sister Nebula and her friends when they visit from space.” 

“Yes, we do, your highness,” Tony replied, “but Mister Mandolin has to get back to work, and little Kermit there looks like he’s ready for a snack and a nap.”

“We must hurry, _copikla_ , or we may not be able to return to our home,” the Mandalorian added, overlooking Stark’s mangling of his descriptor.

“Oh.” Morgan chewed her lip. “I don’t want you to not be able to go home, but come back when you can stay a while. You can sleep over! And baby can make us fly up on Gerald’s back again. He didn’t mind.”

He’d barely known the guy in the can for a few hours, but just judging from the tone of voice, Tony would have sworn on whatever Mandolins, or whoever his people were, held sacred that Din was smiling when he said, “We will do our best.” He crouched before Morgan and pulled a little canvas sack from a pouch on his belt. “I saw you playing with stones earlier. When I was a youngling like you, I was fond of them also. I traded for these at a marketplace, and I thought you might like them.” He undid the drawstring and poured a handful of brilliantly colored crystals into her cupped hands. “Please accept them with my thanks for the good job you did caring for my little one while your parent and I worked.”

Morgan squealed with delight, poked through them and named the colors. “What are they?”

“I don’t know most of them. They’re nothing special, as far as I am aware. This one though,” he nudged a purple one with a gauntleted finger, “is a Dantari crystal. They are found on the planet Dantooine, in the eggs of the giant spiders who make their homes there.”

“Daddy! I should give this one to Peter. He’d like it since he’s a spider.”

The slow turn of the helmet toward Tony communicated volumes without having to see the guy’s face. Tony shrugged. “He climbs. Long story.”

The visitor helped Morgan return the stones to their sack, and got a hug in return. While she showed off her new prizes to her daddy, Din stood and turned to Pepper. “This gift will not discharge the debt I owe for your hospitality, but accept it as a token. In my culture, nova crystals are used as currency. They were first mined by allies of the Mando’are long ago. This one was not clear enough to be of much value in bartering, but someone seems to have thought its flaws made it more beautiful as adornment.”

In her hand he placed a bright green crystal with rainbow streaks, wrapped in copper wire and hung on a matching chain. “It’s beautiful,” Pepper marveled. “Thank you!”

The bounty hunter reclaimed his small son from her, then faced Stark again. “I’m serious about the offer of help,” Tony said. “If you can’t find that portal, you can find your way back here. We’ve got spare bedrooms if you want a break from metal bulkheads.” An unaided observer could not have perceived the moment of anxiety that accompanied the simple comment, but to the voice stress analyzer in the Mandalorian’s helmet display, it rang like a bell of doom. “And as much as I dislike that wizard I mentioned, I will swallow my not inconsiderable pride and call him in if need be.”

“Your offer is appreciated. I would prefer to avoid wizards at all costs, but when we part ways, my people say _ret’urcye mhi_ , maybe we will meet again. So, perhaps we shall.” With a nod, he returned the translator earpiece, turned away and returned to the _Razor Crest_. Over his shoulder, his _ad’ika_ waved goodbye to his new friends. 

“I wanna go to space,” Morgan grumped as the Starks watched the ship lift a few feet off the group and scut out over the lake. “I’d hunt for pretty rocks and wear a cool helmet.”

“What, swiping your mom’s helmet isn’t cool enough for you?” Tony teased. His daughter’s rejoinder was lost in a brief but spectacular roar as the main engines engaged and the craft shot straight up into the sky. “Okay, enough excitement for one day. Peter and May’ll be here any minute, so we need to get some Earth-bound nourishment into you, young lady.”

No sooner than the words came out of his mouth, though, a familiar car came up the driveway and Peter and May got out. Peter was almost vibrating with excitement. “Mr. Stark! I think we saw a UFO just now! I tried to get a picture but it’s pretty blurred—it skimmed right over us on the road!”

“Nah, no such luck, Parker. A totally identified flying object, sorry. It did have a little green alien in it, though. Cute thing, gotta admit.” To May’s skeptical look, he chuckled, “Seriously, Aunt Hottie. They ran into trouble and put down here looking for help. Fortunately, I was able to provide said help, and they should be on their way back to the star system of their choice now.”

May just shook her head. “How is this my life?” she asked of the heavens, but with a tolerant smile.

“Look, Petey!” Morgan raced over. “I got to babysit and the space pilot gave me these. Aren’t they awesome?” True to her word, she picked the purple crystal out and handed it to him. “He said this one comes from a giant spider’s egg. I think you oughta have it.”

“I don’t want to take your rock, Morgoona!” Peter protested. “But if you want me to, really and truly…okay.”

“Since the master space mechanic there lost his morning to shade-tree emergency repair,” Pepper kidded, “come on in and we’ll have lunch before Tony and I do our flight testing.” She scooped Morgan into her arms, and she and May headed for the porch chatting lightly.

Peter started to follow, then noticed the small ingot Tony still held. “Ha, I didn’t know you were into cosplay, Mr. Stark.”

“Care to explain that canard, Underoos?”

Peter bobbed his head toward the metallic rectangle. “That’s a mockup of Mandalorian steel, from Star Wars. See, it’s got the Imperial stamp on it, and—” He reached for it, then started when Tony passed it over. “Wow, that’s a good quality piece. It’s heavy! And cold. How…” He stopped and frowned down at the ingot. “Mr. Stark,” he said, his voice suddenly small and serious, “where’d this come from?” 

Tony was even more puzzled now. “Payment for services rendered,” he said and flipped his free hand skyward. “It’s some metal—ore, alloy, not sure—sounds like something we don’t have in this universe—yeah, I think they were from another universe, long story. Anyway, he said it’s called—”

“Beskar,” Peter was almost whispering. “Mr. Stark, this is—this is huge. Gigantic. It’s—whoa. Ned’s gonna die.”

“Still waiting for clarification,” Tony pressed. “We knew about the multiverse already, what makes this particular…” He slowed, as his brain absorbed Peter’s words. “You’re saying…”

Peter just nodded, and Tony felt faint.

**Author's Note:**

> Just couldn't resist. :) This story is now officially a part of the Equilibrium verse that starts with Pepper Potts and the Second Law of Thermodynamics. (you don't have to have read it to understand this one--everything tied into this verse is a standalone. All you need to know is that Tony survived Endgame in this verse, obviously). If you have, this one takes place long enough after 2nd Law that Tony has built his prosthetic arm and is adapting the Iron Man suit to work with it as much as possible, and Morgan is clearly a bit older, but you will notice the trauma of Infinity War/Endgame still haunts Tony. 
> 
> ERIS is this verse's version of EDITH, though obviously not the same name since Tony obviously didn’t die! In this verse, it stands for Even Retired I’m Spectacular. lolol
> 
> Since communication needs to be established ASAP, FRIDAY only scans the Galactic Basic language database in the translation unit built into the Mandalorian's helmet. For that reason, here's a quick glossary of terms in Mando'a, the Mandalorians' language. _ika'ad_ is 'little one', a baby or small child; _ad'ika, adiik_ denote an older child. Hod Ha'ran is an ancient trickster god, ruler of fortune and misfortune, so, basically the Mandalorians' Loki. 
> 
> _Copikla_ , what Din Djarin calls Morgan, means little and cute. Two important elements of Mandalorian culture are to accept hospitality graciously, and to make much of your host's children, and we see both in this story. Din refers to Pepper as Tony's _riddur_ or spouse--Mando'a doesn't differentiate between gender, so he would use the same word for Tony in relation to Pep.
> 
> The Mandalorians' term for their armor literally means 'iron skin'. When Din scolds his child, it roughly translates as 'you stubborn little thing, get down from there'. _Kandosii_ means noble, but it's used as slang for' well done', basically high praise for an action.
> 
> If the multiverse contains every possible permutation, then of course that should include verses we tell stories about. For Star Wars fans visiting who aren't familiar with all the details of the MCU, Peter Parker, aka Spider-Man, and his bff Ned are huge SW fans, so it's logical that he puts the pieces together.


End file.
